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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29423022">She's Well Fit</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildnessBecomesYou/pseuds/WildnessBecomesYou'>WildnessBecomesYou</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ratched (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Fluff, exercise, happy endings and homemaking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:48:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29423022</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildnessBecomesYou/pseuds/WildnessBecomesYou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwendolyn is a fit woman, maintained through many different home exercises.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gwendolyn Briggs/Mildred Ratched</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>She's Well Fit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nomadic_Earthbender/gifts">Nomadic_Earthbender</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A request from ages ago-- Nomadic_Earthbender, I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long!</p>
<p>I started writing this the day before I lost my cat, and while I'm not entirely sure I was able to keep the same feel to the end of it, I couldn't bear to scrap the whole of it.</p>
<p>Anyway, please enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Leaving Mexico behind meant leaving proximity to the ocean as well. For Gwendolyn, this means finding a new way— or perhaps return to her old ways— of exercising. </p>
<p>For Mildred, this means encountering entirely new scenes in her home. </p>
<p>They’ve only been in their home— a lovely two-story with charming green shutters— a week or so when Mildred hears muffled and mildly distressed grunting from the second story. She pauses at the foot of the stairs and blinks up in confusion, waits a few moments. The grunting starts again, and she quickly moves up the stairs, tugging herself along the bannister to gain speed. </p>
<p>She swings into their open bedroom and finds Gwendolyn braced parallel to the floor, lowering and raising herself on her hands, balanced on her toes at the end of her outstretched legs. </p>
<p>Mildred finds herself only more confused. </p>
<p>“Gwendolyn?"</p>
<p>Gwendolyn lets out a surprised puff of air and pauses, lowers herself to the ground before turning on her side. Her breathing is a little more heavy than normal, and she wipes at the sweat on her face before she speaks, but she’s smiling. “Hi, sweetheart.” </p>
<p>Mildred furrows her brow. “What are you doing?” </p>
<p>Gwendolyn chuckles, then realizes Mildred is being serious. “Oh,” she says, “I’m exercising.” Mildred continues to blink at her and she smiles. “Like swimming? I have to keep this up.” She gestures over her reclined body with a wink. </p>
<p>Mildred flushes and frowns at the same time. “But what does <i>that</i> do?” she asks, gesturing to where Gwendolyn had just been… <i>exercising</i>. </p>
<p>Gwendolyn’s grin turns a little seductive as she pushes herself up the floor. “That,” she tells Mildred as she wraps an arm around her waist, “helps me do <i>this</i>.” </p>
<p>Her hands slide to Mildred’s hips, and then Mildred finds herself lifted into the air, her legs wrapping around Gwendolyn’s waist automatically. She gasps and clings to Gwendolyn’s shoulders. </p>
<p>“Oh.” </p>
<p>She finds Gwendolyn on the floor the next morning, in nothing but her brassiere and sleep shorts, curling up towards her knees over and over. Mildred watches until Gwendolyn lays flat on the ground, lets her hands fall away from her head. </p>
<p>“Do you do something every day?” Mildred rasps, and Gwendolyn jumps. </p>
<p>“Oh, good morning,” she chuckles, looking up to where Mildred lays on the bed. “I do try. Sometimes I take Sundays off.” </p>
<p>She pushes herself up off the ground and approaches the bed. Mildred reaches up for her as she slips her fingers into Mildred’s hair, pulls Mildred up for a kiss. </p>
<p>“I’m going to go take a shower,” Gwendolyn murmurs when she pulls back. “You’re welcome to join me.” </p>
<p>Gwendolyn has an interview the next day, and it's early enough that she’s already gone by the time Mildred is fully awake herself. She rolls over and finds a note left for her. </p>
<p>
  <i>Ran the block before my interview. Good cardio, but I can think of something a little more enjoyable.</i>
</p>
<p>Mildred flushes despite being alone. She holds the note to her chest for a moment. When she brings it out to read it again, she notices a post-script: </p>
<p>
  <i>P.S. I should be home around noon. Take it easy, I love you. </i>
</p>
<p>Mildred grins at that. “I love you too,” she whispers to the empty air, then turns again and squeezes her eyes shut. </p>
<p>The weather is still cold in the mid-spring mornings, and it’s only about 8am. She can stay in bed and savor this feeling a little longer. </p>
<p>This feeling— is this giddy, bubbling excitement how women felt about their young loves in their teens? This moment where her heart feels full to bursting, is that the teenage haze she’d thought she’d never have? She knows the softer, steadier love after four years with Gwendolyn. She knows the heartbeat so strong it might destroy her chest when she’s believed Gwendolyn has been in danger. She knows the ache in her body when she sees Gwendolyn hurt. </p>
<p>But the trembling, the giggling, from a simple post-scripted <i>I love you</i>? That’s new.</p>
<p>Mildred adores it nearly as much as she adores Gwendolyn. </p>
<p>When Gwendolyn does arrive home, Mildred is finishing organizing the pantry, something she’d sworn to do three days ago. She bounces on her toes when she hears the door close— not quite a jump— and sets down the last of the spices on the kitchen table. She swings around the doorframe from the kitchen into the front room.</p>
<p>Gwendolyn is taking off her coat, toeing her shoes off, hat already on the hook by the door. She looks up when Mildred calls, “How did it go?”</p>
<p>Gwendolyn grins at her, and she feels her body start to take flight. “I start next week.” </p>
<p>Mildred squeals, and Gwendolyn laughs as she catches her. “Oh, <i>Gwendolyn</i>,” she breathes. “What’s he like? Does he have good ideas? Is he tolerable?” </p>
<p>Gwendolyn turns her head, breathes deeply against Mildred’s skin, gives a satisfied little hum. “He is tolerable,” Gwendolyn confirms. “His ideas <i>seem</i> good, but we shall see whether he has genuine intentions there. And I need to do a bit more research on New York’s inner workings,” she admits. </p>
<p>Mildred squeezes her arms around Gwendolyn’s neck and presses herself closer. “I’m so proud of you,” she murmurs. </p>
<p>Gwendolyn squeezes around her waist. Mildred can feel her smiling, her lips against Mildred’s skin. “Thank you, sweet thing.” She pulls back, presses a kiss to Mildred’s forehead, lingers there for a few moments. Mildred basks in it. </p>
<p>“What have you been up to?” Gwendolyn asks, and Mildred slides her hands down Gwendolyn’s arms until their fingers are intertwined. </p>
<p>“Organizing the pantry.” She steps back and tugs gently. “I’m about halfway through the spices.” </p>
<p>Gwendolyn follows Mildred back into the kitchen, sits and hands little jars to Mildred as she places them onto shelves. They’re both quiet— companionable, comfortable silence punctuated by quiet “thank you”s and rustling fabric. Mildred steps back from the pantry when they’re finished and smiles. </p>
<p>Gwendolyn wraps her arms around Mildred’s middle and presses a kiss to her shoulder. “Well,” she murmurs, “we’ve both been rather productive today, I think.”</p>
<p>Mildred leans her head back on Gwendolyn’s shoulder and hums in agreement. Gwendolyn is warm, solid, comforting behind her, and she closes her eyes, turns her head to nuzzle against Gwendolyn’s jaw. “Tell me,” she asks, just a little husky, “do you ever exercise twice a day?” </p>
<p>Gwendolyn laughs heartily and Mildred bounces against her. “Oh, often.” She drops another kiss to Mildred’s shoulder, presses her lips to Mildred’s neck. “Particularly if I’m… assisting my dear girl in her own exercises.”</p>
<p>Mildred turns herself in Gwendolyn’s arms, presses their cheeks together as Gwendolyn’s hands skate down her sides. “Is that so?” </p>
<p>Gwendolyn’s chuckle is delightfully dark in her ear. </p>
<p>Gwendolyn comes home a few days later with the trunk of her car full of bags of dirt and mulch. Mildred stands on the stoop of their home, arms crossed and brows furrowed. “For the garden,” Gwendolyn answers with a smile, hefting the first bag over her shoulder. </p>
<p>Mildred steps aside as she passes. “Would you like some help?” </p>
<p>Gwendolyn glances over her shoulder. “With the doors, yes, please, lovely.” Mildred moves to open the doors that lead out from the kitchen, accepts the kiss to the cheek that Gwendolyn offers. </p>
<p>She sets the bag of dirt down outside with a loud thud, and Mildred’s eyebrows jump up. “Rather heavy,” Mildred mutters. </p>
<p>“Yes,” Gwendolyn agrees, brushes her hands over her thighs to dry off the condensation from the bag. “It’ll be well worth it, later, when you’ve got flowers out here.” </p>
<p>“When we’ve got flowers out here,” Mildred corrects as Gwendolyn passes. She earns a smile for it, radiant and warm like sunshine. </p>
<p>Gwendolyn passes back and forth with more dirt and mulch. When the last bag comes out of the trunk, Mildred emerges from the house and closes the trunk. “Thank you, sweetheart,” Gwendolyn huffs. Mildred catches up to her as she ascends the stairs, her hands finding Gwendolyn’s shoulders. </p>
<p>The muscles there are flexed and warm. There isn’t much time to savour that, though, and Mildred turns around to shut the front door behind them both, click the locks into place. Gwendolyn is already outside, rolling up the sleeves of her button down, pulling a knife out of a pocket and slicing the first bag open, by the time Mildred leans against the doorframe. “You’re going to do all of that now?” she asks. </p>
<p>Gwendolyn straightens as she upends the first bag of dirt. “Work up a sweat,” she says, “and give it all time to settle before we plant anything.”</p>
<p>Mildred presses her lips together and nods. <i>Work up a sweat.</i></p>
<p>She watches as Gwendolyn moves in the sunlight, muscles in her forearms rippling, shirt pulling tight across her back. “You’re going to stain the hell out of those jeans, my sweet,” Mildred calls, and Gwendolyn glances over her shoulder. </p>
<p>“They’ll be my garden jeans, then,” Gwendolyn grins back. Mildred tries to roll her eyes. </p>
<p>She watches Gwendolyn work, watches the way she wipes the sweat off her brow, the way hair falls out of the bun she’d pulled it back into. She watches as Gwendolyn’s jeans pull tight at her hips and thighs. She watches as Gwendolyn’s button-down pulls across her body and darkens with spots of sweat. </p>
<p>Mildred finds her throat going dry. She swallows and hums to clear her voice. “I’m going to make some lemonade, would you like some?” </p>
<p>Gwendolyn groans and Mildred swallows again. “<i>Please</i>, darling, thank you.” </p>
<p>“Mmm.”</p>
<p>When she emerges with a glass for Gwendolyn and a glass for herself, Gwendolyn has moved on to the mulch, beginning to spread it over the different beds she’s arranged. Mildred sets her own glass down on a chair close to the house; when she approaches Gwendolyn, she lays a gentle hand against a warm shoulder. Gwendolyn looks up with another grin. “Thank you, my love.”</p>
<p>She presses a kiss to Mildred’s knuckles before taking the glass from her. Mildred smiles, squeezes her hand, moves back to her chair. “Nearly done?” she asks as she settles in. </p>
<p>“Not too long,” Gwendolyn assures her, setting her glass down on a brick that runs around one of her beds. “We’ll have plenty of time left in our afternoon.” </p>
<p>Mildred takes another sip of her lemonade. She doesn’t mind sitting here, watching Gwendolyn work. She doesn’t quite know how to say she’s not so worried about time— more worried about how long she’s going to be holding herself back. </p>
<p>When Gwendolyn does finish, she tips back and sits flat on the ground, sighing happily. Mildred watches her take a long drink of lemonade, swallows reflexively. </p>
<p>Gwendolyn turns her head to grin at Mildred. “Whaddya think?” </p>
<p>Mildred glances around their backyard, now rich with dark browns and reds. She turns her head back to Gwendolyn and gazes at her for a few moments before speaking. “Beautiful,” she husks. </p>
<p>A light dusting of pink spreads across Gwendolyn’s cheeks. “It’ll look better when we’ve got flowers planted.” </p>
<p>“Mmm.” </p>
<p>Gwendolyn pushes herself off the ground, dusts her hands on her knees. She retrieves her own glass and moves  towards the house, stops by Mildred to drop a kiss on her head. Mildred grabs her arm to try and keep her still. </p>
<p>“Darling?” Gwendolyn asks, amusement clear in her tone. </p>
<p>Mildred swallows, tilts her head back to look up at Gwendolyn, traces her fingers over the exposed length of Gwendolyn’s arm. </p>
<p>Gwendolyn blinks, then chuckles slightly. “Oh,” she utters. “Let me shower, lovely.” </p>
<p>Mildred’s eyes narrow for just a moment. Her fingers tense back up around Gwendolyn’s arm. </p>
<p>“Baby,” Gwendolyn starts, pauses when Mildred shifts at the name. “Mildred, I am sweaty and gross, and there will be plenty of time to—“ </p>
<p>“You’re just going to get sweaty again,” Mildred interrupts. </p>
<p>Gwendolyn closes her eyes and fights off a smile. “How about we compromise,” she suggests. Mildred cocks her head to the side. “Join me in the shower?” </p>
<p>Mildred grins. </p>
<p>She also pins Gwendolyn to the wall of the shower, claims the side of her neck, pushes a thigh between Gwendolyn’s and grinds forward. Gwendolyn huffs and winds a hand through Mildred’s hair, tugging until she can guide Mildred’s mouth to hers. </p>
<p>They stumble out of the shower, clean and warm and both of them a little looser than before. Gwendolyn pushes Mildred towards the bed and tries to catch her breath. “Incorrigible,” she mutters, but there’s a smile on her face as Mildred scrambles up to sitting. </p>
<p>“Just trying to make sure you get your exercise,” Mildred answers breathily. Gwendolyn crawls over her, pins her down gently, traces her lips over her Mildred’s collarbones as she rests a hand over Mildred’s stomach. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Gwendolyn chuckles lightly, “I don’t think I’m going to have to worry about that.” </p>
<p>She nips at Mildred’s neck and Mildred gasps before breaking out into a giggle as Gwendolyn tickles at her side. </p>
<p>It’s not until the sun is starting to descend through the sky that either of them realize they ought to eat something. They wrap themselves in silken robes and make their way back to the kitchen. Gwendolyn fries them up some eggs and toast, and Mildred pours them iced tea that she’d made the day before. </p>
<p>They eat dinner at the kitchen table, and Mildred giggles over their glasses and dinner, and Gwendolyn smiles. </p>
<p>“You’re really something else, you know that?” she half-chuckles. </p>
<p>Mildred swallows the sip of tea she’d taken, grins back at Gwendolyn. “Can you blame me? A strong, creative woman building me a garden, cooking me dinner?”</p>
<p>Gwendolyn’s eyes soften. “You know I’d give you the world.”</p>
<p>Mildred reaches across their table and tangles their fingers together. “My sweet wife, you already have.” </p>
<p>Gwendolyn smiles and squeezes her hand, and Mildred feels the strength behind it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sending y'all love. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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